


I want to quiver when the world imitates a wolf

by Eleutherios



Category: Chronicles of Narnia - All Media Types, Chronicles of Narnia - C. S. Lewis, The Chronicles of Narnia
Genre: Book/Movie: The Voyage of the Dawn Treader, Crushes, First Kiss, First Love, Fluff, M/M, Puppy Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-23
Updated: 2020-05-23
Packaged: 2021-03-03 01:22:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,259
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24342688
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eleutherios/pseuds/Eleutherios
Summary: Round and round they went, blades flashing, with sailors calling out encouragements or cheering one or the other. It was all rather beautiful, Eustace thought, Edmund in a green tunic while Caspian wore only his under-shirt, unlaced at the throat to keep cool. If he had ever read adventure stories he would have been reminded of knights and princes; as is was, he thought of Errol Flynn and Robin Hood films in the cinema.  Caspian’s dark hair was damp with sweat, and the white linen under-shirt clung to him, and Eustace could hardly bear to look away, although he hardly understood why. All he knew was that Caspian looked very fine indeed.
Relationships: Caspian/Eustace Scrubb
Comments: 3
Kudos: 13





	I want to quiver when the world imitates a wolf

**Author's Note:**

> This story came to me in a fever. Title is a quote from Catherynne M. Valente's splendid novel "Deathless", which I heartily recommend. 
> 
> Notes on dates: The official Narnia timeline is a complete mess and conflicts heavily with the canon of the books, so I, never afraid to disregard official material, have decided that Eustace is about fourteen here.

The first night that Eustace spent with the crew of the Dawn Treader after his transformation was a festive one. Everyone was full of questions about what it was like to be a dragon, and what it had been like to meet Aslan, and there was plenty of hand-shaking and pats on the back. Everyone had so heartily disliked him the entire time he had been with them that, now that his transformation and restoration had quite altered him, they seemed to want to be extra nice to make up for it. Eustace, who had never in his life been popular before, did not quite know what to do but was awkwardly pleased with it all just the same.

In the end, he had to beg off by telling everyone that he needed some air and quiet, which everyone understood. It was no small thing to be transformed into a dragon and back again, and if he was a little tired, who could blame him? Under strict admonitions not to wander too far, Eustace went for a walk along the beach.

After a few minutes, he heard someone walking quickly to catch up with him, and turned to see Caspian approaching across the pebbled shore.

‘You looked like you were being smothered,’ he said. ‘I know what that’s like. There’s been times when I’ve wanted to just run out of the ballroom as fast as I could.’

‘I think I liked it better when none of them wanted to talk to me,’ said Eustace, but smiled to show he was joking, and was rewarded with a grin, Caspian’s teeth very wide and white in the light of the lantern he held.

‘I can let you alone if you like?’

‘No, I don’t mind. Um, Your Majesty.’

They fell into step beside each other in an amiable silence. Eventually, Caspian took a drink from a skin of watered wine he had brought, and then offered it to Eustace.

Eustace had never tasted wine, his parents being teetotal and also generally being considered too young to drink, but things are different in Narnia, where it is not uncommon for children to drink small beer with their dinner, and what’s more, he did not want to look silly in front of Caspian whom he was coming to admire very much. He took a small sip, very aware that it was still damp from Caspian’s mouth, and finding that he did not mind the taste, took a slightly larger swallow.

‘Everything looks different from down here,’ said Eustace. ‘Bigger. When I was a – a dragon – ’ He could not quite stop himself from shuddering here at the memory, ‘ – it was all so much smaller. Like I was Gulliver.’

‘Who is that?’ asked Caspian curiously, handing him the lantern. They had come to some large rocks, and Caspian climbed on top of them, thickly muscled arms making short work of the distance before reaching down to give Eustace a hand up.

‘It’s a story where I come from,’ said Eustace. He had not read many adventure stories or novels, but Alberta and Harold liked him to be educated, and so he had learned about things like Great Literature. They sat on the top of the rocks, listening to the waves crash below them in the dark, and Caspian leaned against him companionably. Eustace couldn’t help but notice how much Narnian men seemed to _touch_ one another – Caspian and Edmund would always hug after a sparring bout, Drinian clasped hands with Edmund and treated it like a great honour, even the crewmen would sling their arms about each other’s shoulders or walk arm in arm. Eustace, whose school and parents never did more than shake hands, found it all very odd. But with Caspian sitting so close to him, a warm, solid line of heat from his shoulders and down the side of his body, he couldn’t find that he minded.

‘Will you tell it to me?’ asked Caspian curiously. ‘I always love hearing stories. That was how I came to love the Talking Beasts and the Dwarfs and Dryads and all the other Old Narnians, you know – I was told stories.’

‘Well,’ began Eustace, ‘it’s about a sailor…’ Eustace was not a great storyteller, but Caspian was an interested audience, and asked questions, and laughed at the right spots, and when it was done, clapped Eustace on the shoulder and called in a fine tale. Eustace had to turn away to hide his beaming.

A day or two later, Eustace was watching Caspian and Edmund practice their swordplay. It would be a few days before the Dawn Treader was ready to sail again, and everyone was taking the chance to stretch their legs.

Round and round they went, blades flashing, with sailors calling out encouragements or cheering one or the other. It was all rather beautiful, Eustace thought, Edmund in a green tunic while Caspian wore only his under-shirt, unlaced at the throat to keep cool. If he had ever read adventure stories he would have been reminded of knights and princes; as is was, he thought of Errol Flynn and Robin Hood films in the cinema. Caspian’s dark hair was damp with sweat, and the white linen under-shirt clung to him, and Eustace could hardly bear to look away, although he hardly understood why. All he knew was that Caspian looked very fine indeed.

‘I did not know you were so interested in swordplay, Eustace,’ came Reepicheep’s voice, and he jumped to hear the Mouse so close to him.

‘Oh! Um, well. It’s not – People don’t use swords in our world,’ he explained hastily. ‘They use other weapons. So I’ve never really seen people fight with swords before.’

‘Why, I cannot believe that! King Edmund handles a blade as well as any lord of Narnia.’

‘He probably learned that in this world.’

‘It is plain to me now how a close kinsman of the great Kings and Queens of our Golden Age grew almost to manhood without ever learning the sword!’ exclaimed Reepicheep. ‘Someone of such puissant lineage in Narnia would never leave boyhood without learning at least a little of the honourable art of combat.’

‘Will you teach me?’ asked Eustace without thinking. His eyes were still fixed on Caspian, who had yielded to Edmund, laughing, and was now taking a drink of water. He had thrown his head back to drink from the water bottle, and his chin down his throat to his chest was one long, sweat-slicked line, and in that moment Eustace wanted nothing more than to one day look like him.

Reepicheep swept a magnificent, courtly bow. ‘It would be my honour.’

Caspian gladly lent them a sword, and he and Reepicheep set to teaching Eustace the basics of swordplay. Eustace, who had not been expecting Caspian to join in, protested.

‘Nonsense!’ declared Caspian. ‘Reepicheep is a fine teacher, I have no doubt, but how will you learn the proper forms unless you have someone your own size to practice against?’

‘You’re not my own size,’ said Eustace. ‘You’re twice my size across the shoulders at least, and six foot if I’m an inch.’

‘Bigger target,’ grinned Caspian. ‘I’ll be easier to hit, which is only fair since you’re a beginner. Now, guard position!’

Eustace sighed and assumed the guard position Reepicheep had taught him. Caspian sighed and grabbed his arm and shoulder, adjusting his body to his satisfaction.

‘Legs wider. Stance lower. Come on, Eustace, I learned this when I was six, what excuse do you have?’

All Eustace could think was that his mind had gone quite pleasantly blank, and wondered if Caspian would keep touching him if he kept getting the stance wrong.

‘Ow,’ groaned Eustace, lying face-down in his bunk.

‘Poor Eustace!’ said Lucy sympathetically. ‘I remember when we all first started learning to fight. I don’t envy you.’

‘Oh, you’re just complaining to be complaining,’ said Edmund, but without rancour, and a smile that meant he was teasing. ‘Three days practicing the sword with Reepicheep and you’re ready to give up!’

‘I am not,’ growled Eustace. ‘I’d show you just how good I’m getting – only – I don’t think I can reach that sword – because my arms don’t work.’

It was generally understood on the ship that Eustace was not very strong, so he was not expected to work like the rest of them were. This was lucky, because his body was having to do lots of exercise for the first time in his life, and his muscles and joints were fiercely sore, which was a sign that they were getting stronger.

‘What happened to being a pacifist?’ asked Edmund.

‘What happened to that cordial?’ demanded Eustace.

‘Oh, you don’t want it when you’re learning to fight,’ said Lucy seriously. ‘We all learned that the hard way.’

‘It heals your callouses so your hands don’t get tougher,’ said Edmund. ‘And when it heals your muscles, it stops them from being stronger. The best way to stop it all from hurting is just get stronger the old-fashioned way.’

Eustace groaned, but thought that if it meant more mock-duels where Caspian took his tunic off, he didn’t mind that much.

After the attack by the Sea Serpent, Eustace, who had almost been sick with fright, longed for some peace and quiet. He crept up onto the poop deck and sat huddled against the railing as everyone below cheered and congratulated each other for having foiled the horrible thing’s plot.

A little while later, Caspian’s head appeared as he climbed up the ladder, grinning his lovely grin, which faded when he saw Eustace, and it was then that Eustace knew he must look an awful sight.

‘Are you alright?’ said Caspian in a low voice. Eustace was grateful. He did not want the others to see him like this.

‘I’m fine,’ he said. ‘Sorry about your sword.’

‘Don’t be!’ exclaimed Caspian. ‘It was a fine thing to have done! Even Reepicheep said it was a valiant deed. It was a noble end for my second-best sword, and you wielded it with courage. We all think so. And now you can go back to your world and tell everyone that you fought a Sea Serpent!’

Eustace laughed a little, and was horrified to hear how sniffly and snotty he sounded. ‘Don’t worry, I haven’t been crying. I just – I haven’t really… I’m not used to things like this. Sea Serpents and things. I’ve never been brave. I’m quite cowardly, really. Back in England, I don’t even like standing on the platform when an express train goes past.’

Caspian, who had no idea what this meant but knew that Eustace needed comforting, put an arm around him. ‘Nobody thinks you’re a coward, Eustace. You think Queen Lucy was born valiant? She earned that title by finding her courage. I know I nearly wet myself before my first battle.’

Eustace thought about asking about it, but the great war of his own time and childhood was not so long past, and he knew that when you love someone, you do not ask them to tell war stories. And so they sat up there in silence, Eustace leaning against Caspian’s firm, strong body while the stars wheeled overhead and the sounds of celebration floated up from below.

The days passed swiftly. Eustace grew stronger, and every man aboard the Dawn Treader swore up and down he was getting taller, too. He played chess with Reepicheep (and lost a lot), he took lessons with Caspian, and eventually started sparring with Edmund. This he regretted almost at once, as he soon learned that Edmund was considered to be one of the superior swordsmen in all of Narnian history, but as Lord Drinian put it, there were worse ways of learning than by being trounced by the best. This did not stop him from complaining of jarred wrists and welts from glancing blows to his arms or legs after every practice match.

He spent a lot of time with Caspian, who seemed to feel responsible for him. Eustace wasn’t sure what to make of it. He had seen his cousin Peter act this way toward Edmund sometimes and wasn’t certain he liked it, but there were dinners, and chess games, and they exchanged stories. Caspian had a tremendous thirst for stories and for the first time in his life Eustace found himself wishing he had read more story-books.

He told Caspian all the stories he knew: fairy tales like Cinderella, Snow White, Sleeping Beauty (Caspian particularly liked this one, and told it to Reepicheep, who declared it a noble and heroical legend) and Hansel and Gretel, and stories he had read in the books at school which he had hated at the time: King Arthur, Hamlet and histories of Henry the Eighth. Narnians, he realised, listened to fairy stories quite differently to people in our world - to them, witches, sorcerers and enchantments were quite real things, and so when he told the tale of Snow White, Caspian did not hear a fantastical tale but a chilling horror story of a violent and cunning criminal, and shuddered with pleasant dread as we might reading about the French Revolution or grisly sensational murders. In return, Caspian told him Narnian stories and histories, of the Valley of Gold, the Silk Painter and the Seven Devils, of King Ram of Archenland and Queen Swanwhite of Narnia, whose face was so beautiful that it shone out of woodland pools for a year and a day after she looked into them. The whole time, Eustace felt like he stood poised on the edge of some great precipice, some wondrous discovery, but he couldn’t say what it might be.

The afternoon after they rescued Lord Rhoop from the Dark Island, he went below decks to find Caspian siting in a bunk staring at nothing.

‘Your Majesty?’ he asked uncertainly, and Caspian started.

‘No need to be so formal, Eustace,’ he said with an attempt at a smile. ‘It’s just us here.’

‘Are you alright? You seem… Well, you seem upset. More than the rest of us.’

Caspian tried to smile again, but shook his head. ‘I – Bad dreams.’ He got up and made a show of stretching, as if to shake himself out of his dark mood.

‘Do you want to talk about it?’ Eustace offered. This sentence was a great favourite of Lucy’s, who believed that anything could be sorted out if people only talked about what they felt.

Caspian shuddered but didn’t say no.

‘When I was young,’ he began haltingly, ‘I was raised by my uncle. I never knew my parents. My uncle and aunt were my only family. My uncle tried to have me killed.’ His voice was very low. ‘He was the only father I’d ever known, and – ’ His face twisted with bitterness. ‘I dream about him sometimes. Like a demon with wings, chasing me. When we were sailing in the dark, I thought I could hear him, about to land on the mast.’

‘I’m glad he didn’t manage to kill you,’ was all Eustace could think to say.

Caspian grinned. ‘So am I.’ Then his face grew sombre. ‘Are you alright? I forget you’re not used to… things like this.’

‘I doubt anyone ever gets used to things like a magic island that brings their nightmares to life,’ Eustace shot back, which made Caspian laugh.

‘True. But you have bad dreams too. I hear you crying at night sometimes.’ Eustace’s mortification and horror must have shown on his face, because Caspian hastened to add, ‘Not all the time! And everyone else just kept snoring, so I’m pretty sure they didn’t hear you!’

‘I dream that I’m a dragon again,’ Eustace blurted out. ‘It’s horrible. My arm is rotting and falling off, and I can’t make anyone understand me, and sometimes you all try to fight me, and sometimes I fly down to the beach and realise that you’ve all sailed away and left me. And it’s my own fault, because nobody likes me.’

Caspian’s expression softened. ‘Eustace, we never would’ve – ’

‘I know! I know. But when I was a dragon, I realised… how horrible I’d been to everyone. I thought you were all fiends, but I was such a little beast, and I can’t stop thinking about what I was like. And it gets all mixed up with how awful it was when I was a dragon. I think I would have gone mad if it wasn’t for you all there trying to help me.’

Caspian smiled and ruffled Eustace’s hair. ‘Well, I’m glad you didn’t manage to stay a dragon,’ he said.

Eustace stood up on tiptoe and kissed him.

He felt Caspian’s body stiffen in surprise against him, and made to step back, but Caspian caught him by the shoulders and kissed him back. It only went on for a few moments, but Eustace’s mind raced as if to fit an hour of thought into those seconds. Caspian’s hands, work-roughened and strong on his arms; Eustace’s hands on his broad chest, the way the movement of the ship seemed to rock them closer together – Eustace’s mind felt full of light. He felt that if the world ended in that moment, there would be nothing more that he wanted.

Then the kiss ended, and Caspian stepped back, a cautious smile on his face.

‘Eustace,’ he said, his voice low and warm.

‘Caspian,’ breathed Eustace, and leaned back in for another kiss, but Caspian put a finger to his lips.

‘You’re too young for me, you know.’

‘You can’t be more than two or three years older than me,’ said Eustace, bristling.

‘And you’ll have to go back to your world soon.’

Eustace had no answer to that. Caspian leaned down for another kiss – he was very tall – too brief and too soon over. ‘You’re… awfully cute. And if you were a couple of years older… Well, you’re not, but at any rate... I’m flattered. But – ’

‘I know,’ interrupted Eustace. ‘You needn’t go on about it.’ He was being grumpy to hide his disappointment, but in a way, he’d always known this would happen. Caspian was… well, he was Caspian. Tall and fierce, a king, a great adventurer and warrior. Even if he was only a few years older, he was grown-up in ways that hardly anyone in England was, and even if Eustace had grown an inch while on the Dawn Treader, in Caspian’s eyes he was little more than a kid.

‘I’m sorry,’ Caspian said, although he was quite firm and did not sound sad at all.

‘That was my first two kisses,’ Eustace told him.

Caspian thought for a moment, then said, ‘Those were my best two kisses.’

Eustace snorted, knowing full well that Caspian was just saying that to cheer him up, but found that he didn’t mind that much. Just as Caspian wasn’t letting him go further than a kiss, deep down, he’d known all along that what he felt for Caspian didn’t want much more than a kiss. He wasn’t hurt, not exactly. Maybe a little bruised, but in a good way – like the ache after a good sparring match.

‘Friends?’ said Caspian, offering him a hand.

‘Friends,’ said Eustace, smiling as he clasped it.

‘You look cheerful,’ said Lucy when he’d joined her on deck to watch whales breaking the surface a long way off.

‘I think being here’s been good for me,’ said Eustace, and turned his face into the wind and the salt-spray, and licked his lips.


End file.
